10x07 - Somewhere in Time

[bunniefuu]

WHOOPING, CHEERING AND SHOUTING

This is it, lads.

Oh-ho!

There she is, boys.
God, she's a beauty.

That's the Midnight Rambler?

Oh, I can smell it from here, it's
really not helping the hangover.

Lightweight!
Call yourself a Scotsman?

Don't you worry, Jamie...

..just need to top my levels up.

Oi, oi! Look out,
here comes the condemned man.

Permission to come aboard, sir?

Absolutely not, I'm not having any
riffraff like you coming onboard

and polluting my lovely clean boat.

Come on, then, lads -
all aboard HMS Party. Whoo-whoo!

Right, who's who? So...Jamie
and Ollie are old school mates.

Billy is a mate from uni. Right,
just three rules on this stag trip.

One, don't complain about the smell.

Two, if you're going to puke,
do it over the side. Side.

Three, any alcohol
brought on board this boat

must be shared with
El Capitano Skipper!

CHEERING

Right, let's go FISHING!

CHEERING

UPBEAT MUSIC

There you go, there you go... Pull!

Whoa!
SHOUTING AND LAUGHING

BOTH: Three, two, one!

THEY YELL

LIVELY CHATTER AND SHOUTING

CHEERING

Don't let go of it.

CAMERA CLICKS

MAN ON RADIO: ..urgent confirmation
from the captain.

Coastguard to Midnight Rambler,
do you copy?

We are concerned
by your radio silence.

Request urgent confirmation
from the captain.

Coastguard to Midnight Rambler...
VOICE FADES

UPBEAT THEME TUNE

HAMMER CLINKS

HAMMER CLINKS AGAIN

Ah!

Ha! Yes!

Just as I thought - basaltic scoria.

Of course, the real test will be
if it sinks in water.

Sorry, sir, but what exactly
is bals...bals...

It's a type of volcanic rock,
apparently.

We found it exploring
the volcano on Saturday.

I thought you went to the zoo.
BOTH: That was Sunday.

We wanted to tick as many things off
DI Parker's Saint Marie list
as we could.

PHONE RINGS

And now there's only one thing left
on your list - swimming in the sea.

What? You've never been swimming
in the sea, sir? Yeah, of course,

every year as a child -
Blackpool, Morecambe.

Didn't really care for it much,
to be honest.

Freezing water, sensitive skin.
It was a bit like being sandpapered.

Yeah, but the sea here
is totally different.

It's like taking a warm bath. Maybe
you should go after work today.

Let's just see how it goes,
shall we? OK. OK, guys.

A body's been found
out at Benoit Bay.

Ugh.

Harpoon through the chest.
What a way to go.

Do we have an ID? His name's
Skip Marsden. He was a fisherman

but made most of his money running
fishing trips for tourists.

From what I heard, fish wasn't
the only thing coming off his boat.

Smuggler? Bit of rum, cigarettes,
nothing too heavy.

We're miles away from anywhere.
What's he doing out here?

We found this in his pocket, sir.
It's a burner phone.

All the calls and messages
are from the same number.

And all from last night. Look -

"Change of plans.
Drop happens tonight."

Did he reply?
Yep. " Benoit Bay, 2:00am."

Sounds like a straightforward
smuggling job that went badly wrong.

Well, the coastguard picked up
his fishing boat,

the Midnight Rambler,
moored a few miles out.

Apparently, there was four tourists
on there, some British stag party
or something.

Oh, great.

Nothing says cooperation more than
a group of drunk Brits abroad.

"Midnight Rambler 2".

Could have put a bit more thought
into the name.

I assume this was attached
to the main boat.

Guess if you're doing a dodgy drop,
a dinghy's a lot more discreet.
True.

Although these motors
are not exactly silent.

Hey, is that engine casing loose?
Yeah.

No carburettor. It's not
much use without this. Look.

How did he get all the way
here without an engine?

Didn't find any oars around?
Beach was empty.

Something doesn't add up here.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

I wonder if you'd mind
answering a few questions.

I am DS Cassell
and this is DI Parker.

HE CHUCKLES

Yeah, I knew you boys
were up to something.

As if you're a cop. Look at you.
What, are you going to get

the fluffy handcuffs out
and arrest me, are you? "No!"

Hugo, I think they actually
might be the police.

We used to come here every
summer as a family.

Skip would take
me and my dad out fishing.

He was like this rock star to me.

So when Ollie asked what I wanted to
do for my stag, it was a no-brainer.

Pa'll be devastated.

But none of the rest of you
had met Skip before yesterday.

Well, I'd spoken to him
on the phone a couple of times,

organising the trip.
Wasn't an easy man to get hold of.

Can anyone walk me through exactly
what happened last night?

Uh, well, after we'd reeled in
a couple of marlin, we...

..cracked into the beers.

Got pretty merry.
Skip joined you?

That man couldn't half put it away.

Must have been towards, uh, seven?

I suggested we play a bit of poker.

Look, long story short,
Skip took us to the cleaners.

At some point,
we must have all passed out.

Next thing we knew, we woke up

to find Skip and the dingy
both missing.

Did any of you notice anything
suspicious about Skip last night?

Any...odd behaviour?

Plenty.
I mean, the man was a maniac.

Foul mouthed, offensive, crazy.

Legend, basically. I thought
he seemed a bit distracted.

Kept checking his phone.

And did Skip mention
Benoit Bay at all,

that he was meeting someone there?
Listen, erm...

I trust you can keep our
involvement in this quiet.

It's just I've got a, um,
certain profile back home.

I'm sure you understand.
No, I can't say that I do.

Well...I hope you've got
what you need from us

cos we fly home this afternoon.

Sorry, can't stick around.
Getting married next week.

Oh, sir.

We found Skip's other phone.

I guess there was one for business
and one for pleasure.

Can we get this unlocked?

Oh, I might be able to help
with that, sir. How?

A magician never reveals his tricks.

And that's not all, sir. We found...

..this. A smuggling compartment.
Well done, JP.

While the stag party slept off what
looks like a pretty heavy night,

Skip took his contraband from
the hidden compartment and set off

for Benoit Bay in his dinghy
for a prearranged drop.

Except how did he make that journey
when the motor was broken?

Um...sir?

Ah. A missing carburettor.
Looks like its gasket's blown.

I found it inside Skip's tool box,

so I guess he was
trying to repair it. Huh.

We need to take a look at that GPS.

OK, so that's the Midnight Rambler,

the red triangle.

Um...

And, um, where's Benoit Bay?

Way over here?

How far is it?
11 miles or so.

So with no working motor
and no oars to paddle with,

how did Skip
travel 11 miles up the coast?

The only way that dinghy's
making it to Benoit Bay

is if somebody carried it there.
Why would anyone ever do that?

Unless...

..they wanted to make it look like
Skip went there of his own accord.

I don't follow you, sir.

I'm saying, what if Skip was already
dead and then his body was moved

to Benoit Bay to make it look like
he was k*lled there, but he wasn't.

Wait. Wait, so, are you saying
Skip was m*rder*d here on this boat?

Maybe. I don't suppose you found any
evidence of the harpoon g*n here,

did you? Sir, there's one problem
with what you're suggesting.

What's that? The GPS log says the
boat didn't move from the moment

they dropped the anchor
yesterday at 4:00

until the coastguard arrived
this morning.

Huh.

Initial postmortem confirms
that Skip was k*lled by a harpoon

through the chest. It collapsed
his lung, causing asphyxiation.

Which is entirely as expected.

But what's not making sense
is WHERE it happened.

If we're saying that Skip's m*rder
was staged at Benoit Bay by one

or more of his passengers to look
like a smuggling job gone wrong,

how is that possible,
considering the Midnight Rambler

didn't move from its position here,
11 miles away, all night long?

HE SIGHS

All right. Well, let's start
with what we do know.

Victim is Bruce "Skip" Marsden.

Two priors for smuggling cigarettes
and rum, did a bit of jail time,

nothing serious. He also has
an ex-wife back in England.

And one in Miami.

What about his passengers?
The stag party?

Hugo Pickford, the groom,
is a viscount.

He, Oliver Gordon
and Jamie Santisuk

all went to the same
exclusive boarding school.

Yeah, he said he had
a certain profile back home.
What does that mean?

Next week, he's due to marry
Charlotte Fairfax,

whose father is one of
the richest landowners in Britain.

I'm guessing Hugo doesn't have
what you might call a normal job.

No, but he and Charlotte
were paid five figures

for this engagement interview.

The magazine also has exclusive
rights to the wedding.

And they say you can't put
a price on love. Ollie Gordon.

Hugo's best man.

And he works as a strategist
for a top private equity firm.

He also competes
in international triathlons.

I get the feeling Jamie's
the life and soul of the party?

Yeah, he owned a nightclub.

And he attended two different rehab
clinics in the last three years.

Which just leaves Finlay McEwan.

Finlay is the only one of them
who didn't go to the same school.

He grew up in a small town
in Scotland,

but he and Hugo met at university.
Very different backgrounds.

Interesting. Wonder what it takes
for an outsider to gain admittance

to a tiny group like this.
So what's your theory, then, sir?

If the m*rder took place on the boat

does that mean they were
all in on it? Possibly.

The Midnight Rambler's not big
and they do seem to function

as a pack. Then again, it only
takes one person to fire a harpoon.

We need to find out a bit more
about who exactly Skip Marsden was.

JP, Marlon, could you head over
to his house first thing

and give it the once over?
Will do, sir.

Ah, sir. We weren't expecting you.
Good evening.

Thought I'd just stop by

to see how Sergeant Hooper
and trainee officer Pryce

are getting on
with their presentations.

It's going very well, sir.
Just doing the final polish.

Uh...presentations?

You may recall me mentioning that

the Pan-Caribbean
Police Training Board

are reviewing you training scheme.

They are keen to hear from you both,

first-hand, whether their
investment is paying off.

Oh. Yeah, that presentation.
Yeah, yeah, don't...

Don't worry about it, Chief.
I'm all over it.

You want me to bring the hype
so that you get more money, right?

Sorry.

I'm relying on you to keep him
on message, Sergeant Hooper.

Of course, sir.

Right. Marlon,
you need to take this seriously.

Don't sweat it, Sarge,
I'll just freestyle, it's fine.

To hell you can. Look.

You need to be eloquent
and you need to be honest.

So I want to see a draft
of your speech by the morning.

Get typing.

HE SIGHS

Are you sure
I can't persuade you, sir?

The sea's the perfect temperature
at this time of the day

and there's not
too many people around.

Yeah, I-I-I can imagine
how pleasant that might be.

But, no, I've got a load in the
washing machine and you know what it

gets like if you leave it in there
too long. Goodnight, DS Cassell.

Well... Goodnight, sir.

I shouldn't be enjoying
her company this much.

We're colleagues.

Blur those lines at your peril.

You're right.

Need to nip this feeling in the bud
before it goes any further.

I need to keep
my professional distance.

HE EXHALES
OK.

OK, your speech.

Let's see what you got.

"I've got to say,
this scheme is a sweet deal."

Look, like I said,
it's just a first draft.

"Instead of going to jail, you
just have to play at being a cop

"for a year and then you're free to
go back to doing whatever you want."

Is this how you really feel, Marlon?
Man, this place is a hole.

So, you're telling me
you're going to do this for a year

and then...back to your old ways?

No. No, no, no, no, no, no. I mean,
now that I know how you guys work,

I'll be way better
at staying out of trouble.

All right.

All right, thanks, JP, that's great.

So, apparently, Skip was
in debt up to his eyeballs.

JP says they found three separate
overdue demands for child support.

Maybe that's why he developed
a sideline in smuggling.

Well, it might also explain
the photos I found on his phone.

They were taken the night
before the fishing trip.

That's Hugo.

But that's definitely not
his fiancee. No, it is not.

Look, here's another picture.

If Hugo's engagement photos
are worth five figures,

what do you suppose a tabloid
would pay for these?

Oh, I bet that's exactly
what Skip was thinking.

Listen, I know these
don't look great but, honestly,

guys, nothing happened.

I mean, I was a bit worse for wear.

We had the briefest cheeky snog
and that's all.

That's not all, though, is it, Hugo?

Because we know that you left
with this young lady in a cab.

I wanted to make sure she got back
to her hotel safe and sound.

I'm a gentleman. My apologies.

You don't seem surprised
to see these.

In fact, you haven't even asked
who took them.

Just thought it was some paps.
No. You've seen them before.

Skip showed them to you.
We found them on his phone.

It was when we were out on the
fishing trip, he snuck up to me.

Hugo. Who's been a naughty boy?

How much did he ask for? 70 grand.

Yeah! I was staggered.
I thought he was a mate.

But now you realised
he was a man with the power

to end your high-profile marriage
before it even begun.

Everything all right?

They know about the photos, Oll.

The whole situation had already
been dealt with. How exactly?

How do you think?

Offered Skip 70 grand,
just like he asked for,

to delete the pictures.
As soon as we were back on dry land.

It's a lot of money. You can't put
a price on a friendship like ours.

I'd take a b*llet for this guy.
Or a harpoon?

You told us Skip was found
miles away in some bay.

You know we have
nothing to do with this,

so why don't you give us back
our passports

and focus on finding
the actual k*ller?

They're hiding something.
I can feel it.

You saw how Ollie
swept in to protect Hugo,

it's like he was terrified he was
going to give something away.

What about background on these four?
Did we dig anything else up?

Yeah, I managed to get hold of Hugo,
Ollie and Jamie's old head teacher.

Oh, yeah?
What do he have to say?

Well, Hugo wasn't academic,
but he was popular,

and Ollie was badly bullied until
Hugo took him under his wing,

you know, looked after him.

No wonder Ollie said
he'd do anything for him.

Which means if Hugo did k*ll Skip
over those photos,

it's entirely plausible that
Ollie would help to cover it up.

Or maybe Ollie was willing to k*ll
to protect his friend's reputation.

Even though we're edging closer
to a motive, we're still clueless

as to how the k*ller managed to
magic Skip's body from the boat

11 miles up the coast
to Benoit Bay. Oh,

if we could only speak to whoever
he was supposed to meet there.
Maybe they witnessed something.

You didn't have any luck calling
that number on Skip's burner phone,
did you? I'm sorry, sir.

The number was disconnected.
Probably a burner phone, too.

Mm. But there is a guy that I know
of that hangs around the harbour,

might know what went down
that night. Zeke he's called.

Yeah. I know Zeke.

Can you try and track him down?
Yeah, yeah, will do, sir.

Um, sir, the full postmortem's
come through

and, um, there was
something strange.

They say they found canine hairs
in the back of Skip's throat.

Dog hairs?

How do you end up with dog hairs
in the back of your throat?

You know what? I think I saw
a photo of Skip and a dog,

now that I think about it,
at his home. OK. All right.

I'll head over there, see what
I can find. I'll come too.

Oh, you don't need to.
Doesn't need two of us.

Sir, we're a team.
That's how it works.

OK. Suit yourself.

OK, we need to talk about this.

Talk? Talk about what?

About why you've been acting
so weirdly around me.

What, you think I haven't noticed?

Have I? You think I don't know
what it's about?

It is so obvious. Oh.

You're terrified of swimming.

Yes. Busted.

That-that's what it is.
Why didn't you just say so?

Well, I suppose I didn't want you
to think any less of me.

Sir, honestly,

I am so proud of the way
you've been trying new things.

And I know you can do this, too.

I'll tell you what,
after work today,

we will grab your swim shorts
and go.

There's nothing to be nervous about.

Great. Excellent.

I'm looking forward to it.

Looks like someone b*at us to it.

Yeah, but I don't think
they were looking for the dog.

BOTTLE CLATTERS

SHE YELLS

Stop!

Police!

Stop!

CAMERA CLICKS

I'm sorry, sir, she got away.

But I managed to take
a couple of pictures, though,

including her number plate.

Oh, yeah, good work.

Well, I found Skip's dog.

Although I'm guessing he hasn't
been walked in a while. Oh.

So...two key questions.

Who is this woman
and what was she searching for?

Her car registration number's
not in the system.

Must have been a fake plate.
So she's operating under the radar.

Which suggests she might be
the person Skip was texting
from his burner phone.

The person he was supposed to meet
at Benoit Bay. But maybe Skip never

got a chance to hand over
what was hidden on his boat.

She turned his house upside down.

She was clearly desperate to find
it. Seems like a lot of trouble

to go to for some bootleg rum
and cigarettes, though, doesn't it?

JP, Any luck with your informant,
Zeke? Afraid not, sir.

Smuggler just got m*rder*d
and there's a lot of heat about.

I suspect he's gone to ground.
You're right about that, Sarge.

Zeke does not want to be
talking to cops right now,

but I think I know
where I can find him.

But you're a cop. Yeah, but not
a real one. Just leave it to me.

You know, I should come with you.

OK. If you have to, Sarge,
but just be cool. Yeah?

Try not to cramp my style. I'm not
going... I can be cool, Marlon.

Well, see if this Zeke
can identify this woman.

I have a feeling she may be
the key to everything.

All right, let's reconvene first
thing. See you all in the morning.

Sir, aren't you
forgetting something?

Am I?
Time to put those swim shorts on.

THUNDER RUMBLES

Be honest with me, sir.

Did you do a little rain dance
when I wasn't looking?

Reminds me of our caravan holidays
in Blackpool, this.

Two days of sunshine and the rest
of the time it'd tip it down.

Nothing else to do except play board
games against my mum and dad.

You know what?

One of your predecessors
had quite a selection.

I wonder if any of them
are still here.

No, you really don't need to
do that. I've taken up enough
of your time, DS Cassell,

it's certainly not part
of your job description.

SHE GASPS
Oh, yes!

This was my absolute favourite
as a child.

A jewellery shop in Paris
gets robbed

and you have to work out who did it.
That does sound right up my street.

Well, Lottie suspects something.

I'm running out of excuses
to why we haven't left yet.

I say let's get another round
and bed in for the night.

Maybe sh*ts this time.

Good idea.
I'll have a rum if you're paying.

S-Sorry. This is a private party.

Oh, well, excuse me.

Thing is...I think you boys
might have something of mine.

OK, wait a second.

I got it. I think...the thief...

..is Monsieur Chappel.

Unbelievable! How do you do that?

Yes! Simple deduction.

This is something else. It's 4-0!
I'm getting humiliated here.

Well, maybe - maybe -
I let you win the next game.

I'm guessing you played
this a lot as a child.

I grew up in a very noisy house,
five brothers,

I was always sneaking off
for some peace

So I'd either play this
or read a book.

See, peace is the one thing
I didn't like.

Spend a lot of my time reading
alone. Not my choice, mind.

Whose choice was it?
Well...my mother was protective.

I was allergic to everything

so you can't blame her for wanting
to keep me out of harm's way.

Sounds a little lonely. I found
loads of ways to amuse myself.

I suppose you could argue
it's made me a little...risk averse

as an adult.
Yeah...a little, maybe.

Look at you now. On an island
on the other side of the world.

Goes to show,
what if I'd never come here?

I could have gone through
my whole life

and never known that I had it in me
to feel this...

..happy.

Still raining.
I'm sorry you missed your swim.

Well, I'm not. Let's go again.

Are you sure?
Yes. Come on, don't be cocky.

4-1, I'm coming, the comeback is on,
here we go. I'm ready.

SHE LAUGHS
Let's do this.

So...how was your big swim, sir?

Rain stopped play, alas.
Postponed, not cancelled.

Yeah. Although we did manage
to complete no fewer than
five games of Inspecteur.

You guys sure know how to cut loose.

All right. I'll let them know.

Sir, Sarge, the Commissioner
wants to see you both right away.

Sir?

This meeting is being called at the
behest of the British Ambassador.

British Ambassador? My grandfather's
high up in the Foreign Office.

He was pretty unimpressed
with what I had to tell him.

About what, exactly?

The viscount and his friends
have raised concerns

about the direction
of your investigation.

They feel they are being unfairly
targeted based on...scant evidence.

Correction.

In the light of incontrovertible
evidence of our innocence.

Well, the investigation
is still ongoing.

Not for us, it isn't.

We've booked the 8:00pm flight
back to London.

So if you don't mind, we're going
to need our passports back.

I'm afraid
that's not going to happen.

What you don't seem to grasp here
is who you're dealing with.

Hugo is not just anybody.
It's a done deal anyway, Inspector.

Detective Inspector.

It seems the ambassador
has come to an arrangement

with our Justice Department
and agreed for these gentlemen

to return home. Sir, that's...
Just the way the cookie crumbles,

Neville, old boy. Sorry about that.

Now passports, if you don't mind.

How certain are you of their guilt?

Almost 100%, sir. Then find me
the evidence that proves it.

I want this case solved before
they set one foot on that plane.

The problem with people
like Viscount Hugo Pickford

is they think they're above the law.

You wear the right tie and you know
the right people, they think they
can get away with anything.

How do you get on
with Zeke last night, JP?

Oh, we had a very interesting
conversation. Oh, yeah?

Zeke recognised the woman
right away as Pamela Bellman.

She's wanted on a number of islands
for drug smuggling.

Looks like she just moved around
to avoid the law.

You're not saying Skip
was involved in drug smuggling?

Word is he was due to deliver two
kilograms of cocaine to Miss Bellman

the night he was k*lled. If that's
what she's been searching for,

what happened to it? Zeke reckons
it must have been stolen.

I'm willing to bet it was
one of these four.

Well, that's what we thought, sir,
so I got Marlon dusting

the smuggling compartment
for prints. Good thinking.

I mean, that amount of cocaine's
worth, what, 50, 60,000?

Ha. Well, what do you know?

INDISTINCT CHATTER

Listen, Lydia, I'll call you back.

Can I help?

I'm actually in the middle
of an important deal right now,

so don't have long to... Don't
worry, this will only take a minute.

Well, I already gave you
my statement.

Except you left out a few crucial
details. Didn't you, Finlay?

Like the fact that you found
Skip's smuggling compartment
on the Midnight Rambler.

Now, before you go to deny it,
we should probably tell you

that we found an exact match
of your fingerprints.

And I expect they'll be on the
missing cocaine when we find it.

There is actually a very simple
explanation for this.

We would love to hear it. Mm.
Well, the truth is, um...

..I went below deck to grab some
beers when I caught sight of Skip

stashing something in the floor.

Doesn't take a genius to work out
this wasn't exactly legit.

So, later on, once he was back
on deck, I went and checked.

I'm not like the others.
I'm a lawyer.

If I get caught up in drug
smuggling, my career is over.

I'd be disbarred like that.

So I took my phone out
to call the police but...

..Skip, he had other ideas.

He just flipped out.

He was going crazy,
managed to get the phone off me

before the call was put through,
making all kinds of threats.

If you don't believe me,
you can check my outgoing calls.

So, in your words, Skip flipped out.

Maybe you started looking around
for something to defend yourself.

Didn't need to defend myself,
Inspector, because, fortunately,

Hugo showed up
and managed to talk Skip down.

Guys, guys, guys. Chill, chill. OK?

So, to be clear,
the others knew about the dr*gs.

Yeah.
I assume they weren't very happy

that you were going to
call the cops.

I mean, no, they weren't
exactly thrilled about it.
And, I mean, fair enough,

I was about to make it
all about me and my career.

They're a tight-knit group, look out
for each other. So what did you do?

Made it up with the lads
and they were really good
about it, eventually.

We just promised Skip we'd keep
our noses out of his business.

No pun intended.

That was that.
They let me back in again.

So if, um, you'll excuse me,
I need to get back to my call.

Hi. Lydia?
No, no, no, no, it was nothing.

So all four members of the stag
party were fully aware that Skip

had $60,000 worth of dr*gs
stashed on his boat.

What if one of them decided that
was a price worth k*lling for?

But haven't we established
that all of them are rich? Yeah.

PHONE RINGS

JP, what you got? I've just been
looking into Jamie's finances

and apparently his club
is losing serious money.

He's basically bankrupt. Oh.

Follow that boat.

Sarge, Sarge,
I'm in pursuit of Jamie Santisuk.

You're what? Look, there's
no time to explain, Sarge.

I need backup now. He's heading
in the direction of Sally Cove.

All right? Hurry up. Ahh!

Go on, boss. Go on, go, go.

That's not what we agreed!

Just hand it over.
No way! Money first.

Why would I pay for something
that's already mine?

Because we made a deal.

You are so out of your depth
right now, it's not even funny.

Give it. Freeze! Police!
Hands where I can see them.

Did it not occur to you to check
if you were being followed?

You're both under arrest.
Oh, yeah? How's that going to work?

You can't catch us both, can ya?

No.

But I know that you really want
to get back to the UK,

so you wouldn't want to be a
fugitive on this island, would you?

And if there's one thing
that I am good at,

it's running fast.

Just depends if you're
bothered to try.

You took your time, Sarge.

You seem to have
it all covered. Come.

Sure looks like you're a real
cop to me, Officer Pryce.

Are you insane?
Why would I k*ll Skip?

Because once you found out there
were two kilos of cocaine

on the boat,
you saw a way to make 60 grand.

Do your homework.
I really don't need the money.

Oh, we have. And you really do.

We know your nightclub
is about to go bust.

You're facing bankruptcy.

And your father,
who's bailed you out for years,

has cut you off
until you finally get sober.

Earlier that night, I guess maybe
the others were too drunk to notice,

I saw Skip lean over the side
of the boat and pull up a lockbox

attached to a buoy.
We were moored right beside it.

Did you say anything to him?
God, no.

Thought it might not be wise to
ruffle a drug smuggler's feathers.

But later Finlay would make
sure everyone knew about it.

That was very Finlay.
Always putting himself first.

So the others all promised Skip
they'd forget about the cocaine,

but you couldn't. You had to
work out a way to get rid of him.

How many times?
We never left the boat!

And Skip was found miles away!

So the lockbox was attached to
a buoy moored right beside

the Midnight Rambler here.

Presumably it's where Skip always
collected his goods

before taking them to the drop-off.
Mm-hm. Marlon, can you head

back out to the buoy
and retrieve the lockbox, please?

I need to take a closer look at it.

Sure thing, sir. Now, we know
that while the dr*gs didn't make it

to Benoit Bay, Skip did.

We just don't know how he got there.

No. But we do have a witness
who was on the beach

the night Skip was m*rder*d.

He was dead when I got there.

Had this...

..big harpoon sticking out of 'im.

And no sign of, you know,
what I was there to collect,

although I'm pretty sure,
at this point, we're all
clear who'd stolen it.

Didn't take long for you
to track it down.

Boys denied all knowledge
of it, at first.

Although I could tell, you know,
they were hiding something.

It's only after they'd gone to bed
that the Jamie fella

comes over, you know,
trying to act the big man.

Seriously,
you're all wasting your time here.

We all know those toffs
stole the cocaine.

They must have m*rder*d Skip.

So, Skip arranged to meet Pamela
Bellman at Benoit Bay that night,

but by the time she arrived,
he was already dead.

The dinghy lay a short distance away

but we know that can't possibly
be how he got there.

Because the engine was missing
a part and didn't work.

Most plausible explanation is that
he and the dinghy were taken there
by his boat, the Midnight Rambler.

Except that's not possible
because the GPS shows the boat

didn't move an inch all night.
Exactly.

So if he WAS k*lled aboard
the Midnight Rambler

and then his body
was moved to Benoit Bay,

how did the four suspects manage it?

Only a few hours till their flight
leaves. Here you go, sir.

Oh, great. One lockbox.
Thank you, Marlon. Here we go.

Don't actually know what I was
expecting to find in there,
to be honest.

I left the buoy where it was,
though.

I wasn't quite sure how to move it.

That's all right,
the buoy can stay where it was.

Because buoys don't move.

Ha! That's the point.

That's why it's a perfect place
to hide the dr*gs because it stays
in exactly the same spot.

The GPS log says the boat
didn't move from the moment

they dropped the anchor
yesterday at 4:00

until the coastguard arrived
this morning.

No carburettor.

We never left the boat!
And Skip was found miles away!

Of course! That's the only way
they could have done it!

Although it still doesn't explain
which one of them did it and why.

Sir, the results
from the lab are back.

OK...

They confirm that the dog hairs
found in Skip's throat

is an exact match with the ones
you collected from his house.

She same hairs as the dead dog,
Nelson.

So how did they get there

if Skip was m*rder*d
miles out at sea?

Maybe Nelson's some kind of
vampire dog and he
came back to life.

DRYLY: Yeah, Marlon,
I bet that's it.

Yes! That is it!
Marlon, you're a genius!

Skip was m*rder*d by a vampire?

No, not a vampire, but the dog
was definitely involved.

So you know who k*lled him? I do.

I know exactly
who k*lled Skip Marsden.

Just don't know which one
of them fired the harpoon.

Although we could
draw it out of them.

What was the brand of the harpoon
g*n that sh*t Skip?

Erm, the Orca 57. Why?
We need to get our hands on one.

It's time to go fishing.

Well, boys,

it's certainly not a stag
any of us will forget in a hurry.

Who needs Vegas?

TYRES SCREECH

You come to wave us off, Inspector?

You didn't need to do that.
Actually, no.

I'm here to arrest the man
who k*lled Skip Marsden.

You know, it's a common fallacy
that fingerprints are destroyed

the moment they touch water.

The FBI actually did a study on it.

Tossed a few handguns into the sea,

dredged them up
a couple of days later,

and they found that most of
the fingerprints had remained

perfectly intact.

With that having been said,
I was just wondering if there's

anything any of you wanted
to tell me...about this?

For the last and final time,
Inspector,

the body was found miles from
the boat and the boat never moved.

Yet that's not entirely true,
though. Is it, Finlay?

Because the only thing that actually
remained stationary...was this.

Which, for the duration
of that night, contained this.

The GPS system
from the Midnight Rambler.

Giving the illusion that it was
actually the boat that stayed
in place, whereas in fact,

the boat sailed all the way
to Benoit Bay and back again.

All the while the GPS remained
in exactly the same spot,

floating just below the surface
of the sea, inside this box here.

Feel free to contradict me
at any time.

It was me. Hugo,
don't say a damn word. Stop!

You tried to help, you all tried
to help, but it's no use. OK?

I k*lled Skip but it...
it was an accident.

It was a stupid, terrible accident.

We had a few and we were messing
around when we found it -

the harpoon g*n. I just wanted
a bit of target practice.

It was supposed to be a bit of fun.

INDISTINCT DRUNKEN CHATTER

How do you make this thing work?
Put that down, Hugo.

HE GRUNTS

HE GROANS

He was just standing there
with this thing sticking out of him.

It just looked so absurd.

And then I realised
that he was dead.

And they've been trying to
protect you ever since.

After you saw what happened,
the rest of you swung into action

to try and cover it up.

You'd already found the lockbox
and the dr*gs, so you realised

you could stage Skip's death
as a drug deal gone wrong.

Here's what I think happened
that night after Skip was sh*t

by the harpoon g*n.

First, I think you unscrewed the GPS
from its casing in the wheelhouse.

The internal battery would make
sure it kept working for a while

after it was disconnected.

You disposed of the evidence,
threw the harpoon g*n overboard,

then, with the GPS
safely secured in the lockbox,

you set off for Benoit Bay

and moved Skip into the dinghy
in preparation.

You set Skip into place and you put
his burner phone into his pocket

for us to find,

knowing that it would incriminate
Skip as a drug smuggler.

The illusion might have actually
worked, had you not overlooked

one small detail - the dinghy's
engine had no carburettor.

Unbeknownst to you, Skip had been
repairing it before you arrived.

Oi, oi! Look out,
here comes the condemned man.

But it meant that we knew there was
no way Skip could have made

the 11-mile journey to Benoit Bay
in that dinghy.

I still don't understand, how did
you retrieve that? Oh, this?

Oh, no, no, no, no, I'm sorry,
this isn't the actual harpoon g*n.

No, I imagine that's somewhere
on the bottom of the ocean

being nibbled at by fish.
Ironically.

I'm sorry. Was that not clear?

Thank you for the confession,
though. Although, in a way,

it doesn't really matter that
that's not the real harpoon g*n

because the actual m*rder w*apon
wasn't a harpoon at all.

Of course it was, I sh*t him
with it, everybody saw it.

Yeah, I know. But there's one piece
of evidence that doesn't fit

with the account of that night's
events. What do you mean?

We found traces of dog hair
in Skip's throat.

In fact, hairs from
his own dog, Nelson,

who, strangely enough, has been
dead for the last two months.

The harpoon you fired,
Hugo, didn't k*ll Skip.

This did. Because although
sh**ting Skip with a harpoon

may have been an accident,

suffocating him
with this blanket wasn't.

Was it, Finlay?

Spotted it as soon as I saw you.

Oil marks on the knees of those
otherwise pristine chinos.

It wasn't until later that
I worked out how they'd got there.

You see, while you were
all busy covering up your crime,

Finlay was busy in the wheelhouse,
disconnecting the GPS.

And that is when
I imagined it happened.

Skip came to.

Probably considered
helping him for a moment.

We know you have a conscience
because you almost called the police
when you found the dr*gs.

What you didn't tell us was
the real reason you ended your call

to the police before it connected.

It wasn't because
you were afraid of Skip,

it was because you were afraid
of what the others might think.

Guys, guys, guys. Chill, chill. OK?

I wasn't going to call,
it's just a misunderstanding, yeah?

I think that ever since you met Hugo
at university, you wanted to be

a part of his g*ng.

Wonder what it takes for
an outsider to gain admittance
to a tight-knit group like this.

What you don't seem to grasp here
is who you're dealing with.

Hugo isn't just anyone.

That was very Finlay,
always putting himself first.

You realised that this
could be a bond for life.

Unless, of course,
Skip wasn't actually dead.

You reached for
the first w*apon to hand.

And then you hid it in plain sight,

not realising that only two months
after the dog had d*ed,

his hairs would still be
all over the blanket.

You let me believe
it was me that k*lled him.

I was only trying to help.

I have to be honest, from the start,

Marlon has never
corresponded in any way

to what I believe
makes a good officer.

But that doesn't mean I was right.

Marlon is agile,
street smart, enterprising.

He does things
that no-one else could do,

like getting informants to talk

or, even just today,
he put away a drug runner

who has been wanted for five years.

Marlon has proved to me
that he has the potential

to make an excellent police officer.

I only hope that he has
proved it to himself.

Thank you.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Uh, so...I don't have
anything written down.

And, to be honest with you,

this is not my first time
in front of a jury.

I pretty much spent my whole life
standing in front of people in suits

telling me how bad I am -
a serial offender,

hopeless case, irredeemable.

Every teacher I ever knew
gave up on me.

Even my mum said,
"Marlon, what's to become of you?"

But...my man, Sarge, here,

I swear down, I've never heard
anybody stick up for me the way

he does. And, I don't know,

I kind of like that Marlon
he's speaking about.

I think I might like to try and
be that guy for a bit longer,

if you let me stick around.

Um...right, that's all I got.

Marlon out.

Trainee Officer Pryce...

..the board were immensely
impressed with your account.

They said they'd never heard
a speech quite like it, in fact.

Don't mention it, boss.

Any time you need bigging up,
you only have to ask.

Now, if you don't mind,
I'd like a word with the Sergeant.

Oh, yes.

Is everything OK, sir?
Did I say something wrong up there?

As a matter of fact, no.
Quite the opposite.

If anything, you were too eloquent.

How do you mean, sir?

You've become a real credit
to the Saint Marie Police Force,

Sergeant Hooper. Which is
why I'll be so sorry to see you go.

Go where, sir?

The board would like you
to consider becoming the head

of the new
police training programme.

Oh... For-for real?

Uh... Wait, does that mean
I have to leave my job here, sir?

Not only your job...

..but Saint Marie.

Uh...

In that case, sir, please
thank the board on my behalf,

but I love my life here.

May I suggest you sleep on it,
discuss it with your wife?

Opportunities like that
don't come along too often

and I'd hate for you
to miss your chance.

You ready, sir?

Are we sure there aren't
any sharp rocks nearby?

Yeah, positive.

Or jellyfish?

Mm. Or riptides. Or giant squid.

Or nuclear submarines. Yeah, yeah,
all right, I get the message.

Let's go.

Oh, no.

SHE LAUGHS

Well? Huh.

Hey, you know what?

That's... That's not bad. It's
a lot warmer than I was expecting.

Much nicer than Morecambe.

Come on...

# Don't matter who I'm with... #

There's blood on your shirt.

Is everything all right?
I've k*lled her.

Why would a man suddenly, out of
the blue, k*ll his best friend

for no reason? Tarone Vincent.

Hey! Stop!

Let go of the bag!

What do you want me to do?

If you like her, go and tell her.
What, now? Then when, Neville?

The school friend I bumped into
wants to know if I fancied
going for a drink sometime.

I've messed up big time, haven't I?

I have no choice but to stand
Trainee Officer Pryce down.